From Zero to Three in Sixty

It was the second semester of my freshman year, at a college I shall not name, although people call it Cornell. I was in an advanced mathematics class, and all of the other students in it were juniors and seniors. Brilliant that I might have been, I was in over my head, so when Josh organized a study group, I was all for it.

As you may know, most math majors are men. Except for me and a few others, women and math don't mix well. This is made worse by so many people (yes, among them women) using their math talents in related fields, such as Computer Science, Statistics, or Operations Research in Engineering, or in Big Data (spoken in a deep base voice). So, there was not a lot of female demand for a class in Functional Analysis, and in fact, I was the only girl in the class.

Josh, Kevin, Ray and I met Wednesday nights, in one of our dorm rooms. Usually it was Josh's room, but when his roommates were drinking or partying or otherwise being disruptive to a study group, we would adjourn to my room, since I had only one roommate, Lara, and she had basically moved in with her boyfriend, leaving me with a

de facto

single room.

**

I had a boyfriend, Roger Owens, and we dated every Friday and Saturday nights. Friday nights we'd go to parties and dance the night away, and Saturday afternoons we would study together, then grab a bite or go to the movies, and then we'd spend the night together. Roger is good in bed, and well, I kind of like that in a man. I was quite the sexually satisfied freshman girl, and our life together was close to perfect. We were in love.

Roger liked pillow talk, and in particular, he seemed to enjoy hearing about all of my sexual escapades before the two of us met. There were not that many, since I was only just barely nineteen, and most (but not all) happened in high school and -- especially -- the summer before college began.

Roger seemed to like hearing about my one-night stands, and he found especially hot my one afternoon stand, when I fucked a guy I had only just met, at a lonely part of the beach at a lake. This was during that infamous summer just before college, when I was a wild child. The risk of being discovered while we were doing it was high, but that just turned me on all the more. Roger never seemed to tire of me recounting that story.

Roger always asked if anyone had ever watched me have sex, and I replied truthfully that no, nobody ever had. Sex for me was a private affair, and I liked it like that. Sure, I liked risk, and thought it was sexy, but in reality, I would have died of shame if anyone ever stumbled upon me in the throes of sex with a guy. No, I also replied, I would not let him video us having sex, either with a friend taking the video, or with him holding a cell phone. Absolutely not. No way. Forget about it.

It bothered me, in fact, that Roger wanted that. Yes, I was relaxed about sex, having had more than my fair share of partners at my young age, but that was not equivalent to all the perversions that Roger seemed to like to fantasize about. It was not even close.

"Why do you get so excited by me having casual sex?" I asked him, after I recounted a session I'd had in the bedroom of a friend's home during a party, back during high school senior year, when someone could have walked in on us, but happily, nobody did. I had kind of liked the guy, since he had a six-pack, and great facial hair, and it was high school, after all. Also, I was (naively) flattered that he wanted me that way. I loved being desired, and it showed. It tended to make me, if not an easy conquest, at least not that difficult of a conquest.

"It just seems so unusual to me. Most girls I've met are so damn stingy with their sexual favors. You're different and it intrigues me. Tell me Signe, have you ever had a threesome?" Roger asked.

"No, not with two men, nor with two women. Why? Do you want us to have one?" I asked. Maybe I would, after all, it's fun to try new things; but I'd only do it if Roger truly wanted it, and begged me, at least a little bit. I was guessing he wanted two women and him, of course. I had enjoyed one or two short liaisons with girls in high school, after all. What do you think goes on at slumber parties, anyway?

Roger didn't answer me, preferring, apparently, to go down on me, getting me super wet as he drove me to a climax, and then he gave me one of his great fucks. He fell asleep, and I lay awake, studying the ceiling from underneath him, and wondering about threesomes. Finally, his cock having softened and fallen out of me, I rolled my sleeping lover off of me (which is tricky in a dorm twin bed; prudence dictated I rolled him toward the wall, so that he wouldn't tumble onto the floor), and I fell asleep myself.

**

Our math study group studied hard, and even though it was three guys and me, little to no flirting took place. That was the way I wanted it, and aside from my good looks (I know who I am and how men view me; excuse my lack of false modesty), I gave the guys no reason to think I was available, and all of them knew Roger. They also knew he would hurt them if they tried anything with me.

I didn't like that aspect of Roger's personality, but I liked Roger. People are packages, and you take the good with the bad. That bad aspect of Roger worked in my favor in this case, or so I thought. Anyway, I was crazy about Roger, faults and all.

One upshot is, however, that we all got to know each other fairly well over the semester, and we all became friends. I liked the three guys, and especially I liked Josh. Sometimes I thought about if Josh and I got together, and Roger never found out about it, well.... Stop that thought!

My sister Anne-Marie had always said that there was no such thing as a male friend. She's already a college graduate, and she's wise, so she should know. Anne-Marie claims there's always sexual tension between a heterosexual man and a woman, no matter what. It may be repressed, and not at all obvious, but it's there. I figured she was wrong in the case of my study group. Looking back, it's amazing how capable of denial one can be. My capacity for naïve innocence is truly unbounded.

When the big exam came, it being the final, Josh and I both aced it with grades of A+, Kevin got an A-, and Ray, who might have failed were it not for our study group, ended up with a B. We were gathered where the grades were posted, our names being hidden for privacy reasons, but we all had secret numbers corresponding to who we were. We discussed how my tutoring session on all the different possible variations of the Hahn-Banach Theorem had been a key part of our success on the exam.

I have an uncanny way of reading professors, and I figured the Hahn-Banach Theorem would play a central role on the final exam. I also knew the professor had a fetish for the dual space of the Hardy space H-1, it being BMO (functions of bounded mean oscillation). I explained my thinking to our study group, and I like to think that's why the four of us all did so well.

Ray and Kevin, especially, were thrilled with their successes, as were we all, and I proposed a party, just the four of us, to celebrate our collective success. Josh and Kevin wanted to bring their girlfriends, and Kevin suggested I bring Roger, but I said no, let's just make it the four of us. Ray didn't have a girlfriend at the time, and I didn't want him to feel left out, sweetheart that I am. I actually am a bit of an empathetic friend, you know.

We met in my dorm room, and we had French Champagne (since Kevin comes from money), as well as beer, wine, and tequila (with fresh limes, and salt, of course). We also had some weed, and my current favorite, CBD gumdrops from Lord Jones. We were feeling no pain, except for me. I think I had been tense about exam period, or something, since I had stabbing pains in my neck.

Josh said it was probably due to how I had slept, and that he had taken a summer course at Ithaca College where he learned the basics of giving a massage. I lay down on the floor on my stomach, after getting some fancy Santa Maria Novella Cosmetic Vitamin Oil, imported from Italy, that my grandmother gave me when I left for college. I hadn't used it yet, as it was so fancy I found it intimidating. Josh used it on me happily, though, and he went to work massaging my neck. It felt divine. He asked me to remove my blouse, and since my bra was opaque and covered my boobs even better than my bikini did, there was no real risk, and I quickly removed my blouse. He spread the oil all over my upper body.

I was drunk, stoned, and had eaten too many gum drops (the daily recommenced dose is one), so I was in a silly sort of happy mood and, I suppose, my judgment was impaired.

Josh extended the massage to my shoulders and upper back, and then he wanted to remove my bra, to get "unfettered access." I stayed silent, and Josh muttered something like "

qui tacet consentire videtur

," a Latin phrase meaning he (or she, in my case) who is silent, gives consent. I'm not sure Kevin nor Ray knew that phrase (in Latin, that is), but I sure did. Josh unhooked my bra, and pulled it off.

I lifted my chest a bit from the floor to help him. I was topless, but the guys could only see the sides of my crushed boobs, and besides, we had always been nonsexual in the study group. Always. So, I wasn't worried. Mostly, I was too high to worry. When I said earlier my judgment was impaired, I wasn't kidding!

I nervously giggled when my bra came off, which sent the wrong signal. Big mistake: Looking back, that was the turning point. Josh proceeded to give my back a massage from heaven. His talent as a masseur, plus my thrill over the A+ on the big exam, plus the booze and the drugs, plus my naked boobs, made me one mellow coed, so when Josh asked Kevin to remove my skinny jeans, so that he could massage my legs, too, I finally spoke.

"Kevin will never get my skinny jeans off. It's not easy. I'll do it myself," I said, and I stood up, unzipped, unsnapped, and wriggled, for over a good two minutes, out of my jeans, making sure my panties stayed on (since they often come off together with my skinny jeans). At the end, I let Kevin pull my jeans off my calves and feet.

As I was wriggling, I didn't think enough about the show I was putting on for the guys, with my bare boobs jiggling about all over the place. (My boobs are a heavy B cup, and I have a nice figure, with a flat tummy, and am -- in general -- considered to be attractive.) Nor did it dawn on me, right away, that all I was now wearing were my bikini cut lavender panties. Somehow, however, all three guys noticed that little fact, and right away.

Kevin began to massage my legs, while Josh continued with my neck and shoulders, and the small of my back. Kevin was a disaster as a masseur, compared with Josh, but he seemed so thrilled to be touching up my legs, that I let it go, and I continued to mellow out and to enjoy the sensations, which -- all things considered -- were wonderful. Ray was quiet, and I couldn't see him from where I was.

Josh rolled me over onto my back to massage the front of my neck, followed by my naked boobs, and finally my tummy. He would massage with long strokes, the momentum continuing his massage under my panties. He told Ray to get a small towel, and he placed the towel over my privates, and then he slipped off my panties from underneath the towel. Now I was naked, with only a small towel carefully draped over my privates to protect the privacy of my most intimate spot.

As Josh continued his long strokes massage, his hands would continue the momentum under the towel, just missing my kitten, and I was getting an erotic charge out of it, all the more so by watching Kevin and Ray drool over the prospect of having me naked in front of them. There was also the question of whether or not the carpet matched the drapes, since I'm a natural blonde, complete with blue eyes, and hyper fair skin. I'm of Scandinavian extraction, Danish to be precise, as one might guess from my name: Signe Sørensen, usually spelled Sorensen in the Anglo world, because Americans can just not deal with the Danish special letter ø. The name Signe is pronounced sinn-yah.

The guys didn't know it yet, but yes, the carpet matches the drapes.

Kevin noticed the long strokes technique of Josh, and so he mimicked it with my legs, after having arranged for my legs to be apart in order to massage the insides of my thighs. Kevin's long strokes, however, didn't have the subtle mastery of those of Josh. Instead of the highly erotic tease of Josh's delicately perfect, with the just the right amount of pressure, long strokes reaching my bush but not entering it, always stopping at the perimeter hair, Kevin went right on in, and under the cover of the towel his fingers found my pussy, and tickled it a bit by brushing the fine blonde down that covered my labia.

My next big mistake was that I made no protest regarding Kevin's outrageous liberties taken.

Ray had had enough. He felt left out, and he upped the ante by coming over to my salacious body, and kissing me. Being felt up and having Kevin's fingers touch my pussy under the towel had a not too credible innocent interpretation, but Ray's kisses, well, obviously that was some kind of affectionate sex. Worse still, I kissed Ray back. It's who I am. If I like a guy, and I liked all three of the guys, I cooperate with whatever they want to do, within reason, of course.

I've always been like that, which is why I was so popular with the guys in high school, many of whom quite generously gave me their virginity. I could give mine away only to one of them, virginity being like that, of course. Virginity is kind of a single use thing. A guy named Eric was the recipient of my virginity. Eric was two years older than me. He was a high school dropout and he drove the UPS truck, but that's a whole different story, and yes, it's one of Roger's favorite stories that I tell him, during pillow talk. I lost my virginity on top of a pile of boxes in the back of Eric's truck. I even got blood from my hymen on one of the boxes he delivered later that same day.

Ray and I kissing each other removed any pretense that what was going on was in any way innocent. The massage, and my nudity, plus Ray's kisses, meant this party had turned sexual. Quite sexual in fact, and I was the only woman. I thought of Roger, and how he liked to ask me if ever I had enjoyed a threesome before. What would he think of a foursome, I wondered? It seemed to me, even in my brain-addled state, that we were heading that way.

I knew, however, that these were good men. All I had ever to do was to say no, and that would be the end of it. The worst of it would have been showing off my naked bod to three friends, and Roger could easily get into getting off on imagining that, if that's all this was.

I knew, too, that that was all it would be. So, no worries. Well, Ray's spectacular kisses were a bit of a worry, I guess, because they were melting my resistance in real time, but Lordy, they were good! I've always been a sucker for a man who kisses well.

When Josh saw Ray kissing me, he began to play with my nipples, and sexually to caress my breasts. It just so happens that I love it when a man does that. So, with Ray and me French kissing and swapping tongues, and Josh making love to my boobs, Kevin pulled off the modesty towel and began blatantly to finger my pussy, and everybody could see him doing it. Kevin was much better, seriously better, at fingering a girl's pussy than he was at giving said girl a leg massage. It took only seconds for my passage to lubricate thoroughly, and my breathing became heavy, reflecting my extreme arousal.

I was drunk, stoned, and had too many gumdrops, but I was still there, present enough, to realize things were getting out of hand. I pushed Ray's wonderful mouth away from mine, and I yelled "Stop!"

I sat up, suppressing how dizzy I felt. "This is spinning out of control," I said, as indeed the room seemed to be spinning as I spoke. "There are three of you, and one of me. Also, I had no idea you liked me this way. We need to discuss what's happening here."

I should have been more definitive in my attempt to say no. A naked girl, her boobs bouncing around just a bit as she moves, a guy with his thumb in her pussy, and with the start of a sex flush around her neck, saying "we need to discuss what's happening," is not really and truly saying no, in a way that three aroused men with erections can understand.

"How about if we just do tequila body shots off your fabulously flat tummy?" Josh suggested. Relieved that the guys would no longer be threatening my virtue, such as it was, at least so directly, in response I just happily giggled.

I was pleased that Josh had noticed my flat tummy. I wanted to look nice for Josh, and when one is naked, it's hard to hide the flaws. Your bod is simply there, in front of the guys, so I was nervous. Stupid, right? The guys were not studying my bod, other than my two boobs, and my pussy, and it was clear they were fine with my body. They were very fine with it.

I sliced up the limes, and got the salt. My sore neck became a salt lick, and I put a slice of lime in my mouth, filled a shot glass with tequila, lay down on my back, and placed the shot glass on my bare tummy, dangerously close to my blonde bush.

Josh went first. He picked up the shot glass, his hand grazing over my bush in the process and fooling nobody. Then he licked some salt off my neck, drank the tequila, and then moved to my mouth to retrieve the slice of lime I held between my teeth. Josh used the opportunity to give me a kiss that I felt all the way down my naked body, right to my toes. Josh seemed to have talent without bound.

Kevin went next, and did the same thing. Ray followed suit. It was kind of exciting when Ray was being so intimate with my naked body, since he was a dark colored Asian man. Up till then, I'd been a white bread girl. Granted, with Roger it was delicious French sourdough white bread, but it was always white bread. Ray was something different. Not quite pumpernickel, but yummy, in any event. Maybe Ray was a dark rye bread?

Then Josh moved in for a second round, but he was now naked. I hadn't even noticed him undressing! As was suddenly quite obvious, though perhaps not surprising, his cock was hard, and sticking out from his body like a steel pipe. Josh flagrantly placed the shot glass between the lips of my pussy, creating yet another giggling fit on my part. When he finished the shot and got the lime slice from my mouth, lying on top of me to do it, he caught me unawares by simply slipping his cock inside my already well lubricated pussy. I gasped as he entered me. I couldn't believe it: Josh was finally fucking me!

My boyfriend Roger has kind of a thick cock, which is quite nice physically, whereas Josh's cock was thin and short, but I didn't care, because it was Josh's cock. The upshot however was that my pussy was wide open at this point, and quite nicely lubricated, and there was no impediment to Josh's cock entering me, as I immediately learned, to my chagrin!

I was now officially cheating on my boyfriend Roger. I had conflicting emotions: Guilt, and worry over the cheating and how Roger might react to it (not good, was a given); and thrill that Josh, whom I guess I had a crush on, wanted to fuck me, and moreover he was doing it, too! Yeah, Josh has a girlfriend and he loves her and all that, but just then, he obviously wanted me, and what's more, he was in the process of taking me! 'Thrilled' cannot even begin to describe how that made me feel.

Josh slipped all the way in, easily all the way inside me, and he waited there, his cock completely buried in my passage. A hush fell over the room. Presumably everyone was waiting, Josh's cock deep inside me, to see if I'd protest. Everyone was not only waiting, but even holding their collective breath. It was a momentous moment, and unimaginable before, but somehow very much imaginable just then.